


Lovercall

by sarahcakes613



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint's ass is a peach, F/M, Polyamory, Teasing, Undercover Missions, WinterWidowHawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Bucky and Clint have to entertain themselves while watching Natasha work.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Lovercall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimyn929](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimyn929/gifts).



Clint tugs at his collar in frustration. “I really don’t see why I couldn’t be the hook this time.” He grumbles under his breath, knowing that the mic in his ear will send his complaint to its intended target. “Target is on record as being bisexual.”

“Yeah, and every one of his boytoys has looked like Steve circa 1932. There was no way he was going to go for your jock ass.” Bucky says, eyes sweeping over the bar, not lingering for even a moment on his own boyfriend.

“You like my jock ass.” Clint says petulantly.

 _“He’s right, you do!”_ A third voice laughs in their ear.

Bucky and Clint both fall silent.

 _“Oh darling, don’t be like that. You know he didn’t mean it.”_ The target walks into the room, their hook on his arm. She’s fawning over him, playing to his ego, acting like a version of herself that Clint and Bucky are both thankful doesn’t exist in real life. She’s talking to him, not them, and if they were strictly professional types, they would tune out her conversation and focus on the room. They’re not strictly professional types.

After an hour of watching their girlfriend paw at and be pawed by a progressively drunker banker who has been funneling money to offshore accounts for excessively law-breaking clients, they’re both bored. It doesn’t look like they’re going to get the information they’re looking for tonight and now it’s just a matter of waiting for Natasha to pour the banker into his hotel bed and rumple the sheets enough that he wakes up thinking he didn’t spend the night alone.

“You’re right though, I do like your jock ass.” Bucky says thoughtfully. “It’s like a perfectly ripe peach, and I like how it bruises like one, too.”

“I fucking knew it,” Clint huffs. “I knew you were giving me those hickeys on purpose.”

“Oh come on,” Bucky says, “you’re just as bad. The last time you grew your beard out for a mission I had stubble burn on my ass for a solid week.”

“Goddamn right, you did.” Clint grins. He taps the side of his glass, gesturing to the bartender for another drink.

Natasha coughs delicately. They ignore her.

“You know what else I like,” Bucky says. “I like the way your ass looks in those pants. Christ, is Tony testing out the strength of a new stretch fabric?”

Clint is standing at the bar, hip jutting out. He runs a hand down the back of his thigh, ostensibly smoothing out his jacket.

“It’s all for you, babe. Wanted to give you something to look at.”

“Oh, I’m lookin’ alright.”

 _“Darling, am I boring you?”_ Natasha asks her companion. _“Only, you aren’t paying attention to me._ ” She pouts and flutters her eyelashes. She licks her lips seductively – or what the mark will interpret as seductively and what Clint and Bucky both know is a message aimed directly at them.

Bucky’s pocket vibrates. He draws out his phone and sees an encrypted message from the extraction team. “We’re not getting anything from him tonight. Natalia, it’s time for Mr. Banker to say good night, our car will be here in ten.”

“Fuckin’ finally.” Clint tugs at the collar of his shirt again.

“Stop fussin’ with it.” Bucky says. “You promised to be good tonight. Keep it up, I’m thinking maybe you aren’t interested in bein’ good tonight.”

Clint’s hand snaps away from his neck.

They both pretend not to watch as Natasha tipsily stumbles out of the bar with the target. They follow a few feet behind, far enough back that they look like just another couple who happen to be waiting for the same elevator.

She ignores them as they all pile into the elevator. They stay on when she gets out, riding two more floors up and then doubling back down on the stairs. By the time they get to the banker’s room, he’s out cold and Natasha is waiting for them by the door, her heels dangling by their straps in her hand.

She scowls at them both.

“Honestly, I should just start taping both your mouths shut.”

“Sure, but then you would miss out on that thing I do with my tongue,” Bucky waggles his eyebrows. Natasha gives him a single unimpressed arched eyebrow.

“Sorry, ‘Tash,” Clint rubs the back of his neck.

Natasha wraps a hand around each of their waists. “I’m sure you can both make it up to me when we get home.”

They head back to the stairwell, the three of them in one synchronized line down the hall. Natasha’s hands slip under Clint and Bucky’s jackets to rest on their lower backs.

“I think it’s my turn to leave marks tonight.”


End file.
